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The Story 

of the 

Armory Show 


Walt Kuhn 


The Story 

of the 



Walt Kuhh 

Executive Secretary of the Exhibition 



Walt Kuhn 

112 East 18th Street 

New York City 

Dedicated to the 
American Artists 
of the Future. 

IN the face of the tremendous developments in 
art in America during the past twenty-five 
years, the building and endowment of mu- 
seums all over the country, the hundred-thousand- 
dollar-gates to exhibitions during worlds fairs, the 
numberless galleries devoted to contemporary art 
in New York City alone and the sudden appearance 
of hundreds of new artists all over the country, the 
Armory Show of 1913 (International Exhibition 
of Modern Art given under the auspices of the 
Association of American Painters and Sculptors) 
seems today but a puny thing. In spite of all this 
manifestation of interest and money expended 
during the intervening years, it still holds a unique 
place in history. Hardly a week has elapsed since 
that spring of 1913 but what it has been mentioned 
at least once in the public press. 

At various times during the past year I have 
been urged to put down some notes as to why and 
how the thing started and what it did for art in 
the United States, now that we have arrived at the 
twenty-fifth anniversary of the occasion. Owing to 
the fact that I was the executive secretary of the 
undertaking and today the only man alive who 
knows about or took part in all the activities both 
here and abroad from the earliest beginning of the 
project to its close, it is perhaps fitting that I say 

something about this, at that time most exciting 
adventure, which sprang upon the American public 
like a flash from the blue. 

Two things produced the Armory Show: A 
burning desire by everyone to be informed of the 
slightly known activities abroad and the need of 
breaking down the stifling and smug condition of 
local art affairs as applied to the ambition of 
American painters and sculptors. This was the one 
point. The other was the lucky discovery of a 
leader well equipped with the necessary knowl- 
edge of art and a self-sacrificing and almost unbe- 
lievable sporting attitude. This was the American 
painter Arthur B. Davies. 

As put forth in his manifesto in the catalogue, 
our purpose was solely to show the American 
people what was going on abroad, but this was only 
a half-truth, the real truth was that the Armory 
Show developed into a genuine, powerful and 
judging from results, a most effective revolt, per- 
haps even more effective than the incident of the 
Salon des Refuses of Paris in 1864. The group of 
four men who first set the wheels in motion had 
no idea of the magnitude to which their early long- 
ings would lead. Perhaps they felt just one thing 
—that something had to be done to insure to them 
a chance to breathe. 

It is necessary to realize that at this time most 
of the younger American artists, especially the 
progressive ones, had no place to show their wares. 
No dealer's gallery was open to them, the press in 
general was apathetic, maybe one in a thousand of 
our citizens had a slight idea of the meaning of the 
word "art". Perhaps it would be fitting at this point 
to give credit to two American women. Mrs. Ger- 
trude V. Whitney and Mrs. Clara Potter Davidge. 
Mrs. Davidge conducted a small gallery at 305 
Madison Avenue of which Henry Fitch Taylor, a 
painter, was the director. Mrs. Whitney, I believe, 
supplied most of the wherewithal. A small group 
of younger artists were given free exhibitions at 
this gallery. Three of the exhibitors, Elmer Mac- 
Rae, Jerome Myers and myself, together with Mr. 
Taylor the director, would sit and talk of the help- 
lessness of our situation. Finally on December 14, 
1911, we agreed to take action. Additional artists 
were invited. On December 16th the group had 
grown to sixteen members. Meetings were con- 
tinued and new members added until the list looked 
sufficiently large and representative to answer the 

At this time Davies was already greatly re- 
spected and looked upon as one of the leading 
figures in American art. I called alone on him, a 

shy and retiring man, and induced him to come to 
a meeting, promising him that should he not look 
favorably on our prospectus, we would annoy him 
no more. Luckily he immediately took practical 
interest in the proceedings and at the resignation 
of Alden Weir as president, was induced to take 
over that office. 

At this point it is important to remember that so 
far this group had thought no further than to stage 
somewhere, a large exhibition of American art, 
with perhaps a few of the radical things from 
abroad to create additional interest. No one at this 
time had the slightest idea where the money would 
come from, or even if any sort of an exhibition 
place could be found. Discussing this latter point, 
the old Madison Square Garden was discarded as 
prohibitive in size and cost. All other places seemed 
too small or otherwise unattractive. Some of the 
members mentioned casually about the possible 
availability of an armory, several of which per- 
mitted tennis playing for a fee. With this hint 
I visited several armories, talked to their respec- 
tive colonels and finally found after a conversation 
with Colonel Conley, then commanding officer of 
the old 69th Regiment, N.G.N.Y. (The Irish Regi- 
ment), now the 165th Regiment Infantry, that his 
armory, Lexington Avenue at 25th Street, would 

possibly lend itself to our purpose. 

In the meantime my friend, John Quinn, who 
until long after, thought the whole scheme a 
crazy one and had up to then shown no interest in 
the new art manifestations, agreed to take over all 
legal matters. So at last, with borrowed money, the 
president, vice-president and myself, signed the 
lease with Colonel Conley, $1,500 down, balance of 
$4,000 to be paid before opening of the show on 
February 17, 1913, the exhibition to continue for 
one month. Most of the members, knowing that the 
thing was on its way, and no one aware as to how 
in the world it was to be accomplished, retired to 
their various studios and hoped for the best. 

An undertaking of this importance usually calls 
for underwriters. Some of the better known col- 
lectors and art lovers were approached without any 
marked success. The task seemed more and more 
hopeless as the weeks passed by. At this time 
began my friendship with Arthur B. Davies, which 
close association remained over a period of sixteen 
years until the end of his life. During the spring 
of 1912 he and I had many conversations debating 
some sort of program for the projected exhibition. 
The general opinion expressed by knowing people 
in New York, showed scant hope of securing any 

important works from European sources. However 
all this only helped to provoke in me the desire to 
go and see for myself. So with a growing familiarity 
of the subject, due to my talks with Davies (who 
was thoroughly informed) the picture gradually 
shaped itself. Later in the midst of a painting trip 
in Nova Scotia I received from him by mail the 
catalogue of the "Sonderbund" Exhibition then 
current in Cologne, Germany, together with a brief 
note stating, "I wish we could have a show like 

In a flash I was decided. I wired him to secure 
steamer reservations for me; there was just time to 
catch the boat which would make it possible to 
reach Cologne before close of the show. Davies saw 
me off at the dock. His parting words were, "Go 
ahead, you can do it!" 

The Cologne Exhibition, housed in a temporary 
building had been well conceived and executed, in 
fact it became in a measure the model of what we 
finally did in New York. It contained a grand dis- 
play of Cezannes and Van Goghs, including also a 
good representation of the leading living modern- 
ists of France. The show had languished through 
half the summer, much maligned by the citizens, 
but toward the end burst forth as a great success, 
with big attendance and many sales. I arrived in 


the town on the last day of the exhibition. In the 
midst of all the travail of the closing of the show's 
business, I could get but scant attention from the 
management. However through the courtesy of one 
of its directors I was permitted to browse at will 
during the time of its slow dismantling. Needless 
to say, I crammed myself with all information pos- 
sible. Van Gogh's work enthralled me as much as 
any. I met the sculptor Lehmbruck and secured 
some of his sculpture, also works by Munch, the 
Norwegian, and many others through the courtesy 
of the show's management. I received letters to col- 
lectors in Holland, departed to The Hague, where I 
first laid eyes upon the work of Odilon Redon, the 
Frenchman up to then unknown in America, and 
not very much considered in Paris. I felt so sure of 
Redon's quality that I agreed on my own respon- 
sibility to have an entire room in our exhibition 
devoted to his work. This was fortunate, as Redon 
became a hit in New York. He sold numerous ex- 
amples, thereby elevating his market many points 
in France. At this time he was already over seventy 
years old. I also secured several of Van Gogh's 

From Holland I took a flying trip to Munich and 
Berlin, made arrangements for the works of many 
of the advanced local painters and then was off to 

Paris. There I looked up that old-timer, Alfred 
Maurer, who introduced me to the formidable Mon- 
sieur Vollard, who although willing to listen re- 
mained somewhat noncommittal. My mission 
abroad had already been noised about and I could 
detect a slightly rising interest all around me. I 
next looked up Walter Pach, then resident in 
Paris, who later furnished inestimable service to 
our undertaking. To his wide acquaintanceship 
among French artists and dealers, the advantages 
of his linguistic abilities and general knowledge of 
art, should be credited a large measure of our suc- 
cess. He later acted as the European agent for the 
association and during the exhibition in America 
took charge of the sales staff, wrote several of the 
pamphlets, lectured and otherwise lent great and 
enthusiastic support to it all. His serious interest 
in art remains undiminished today, as can be 
witnessed Uy his own writings as well as his trans- 
lations of the works of others. His latest achieve- 
ment, a translation of the Journal of Delacroix, 
probably one of the most useful and seriously 
important books of its kind should be in the hands 
of every r»ainter. 

Things got more and more exciting. We went 
from collection to collection, from gallery to gal- 
lery, with constantly growing success. Talk spread 


in Paris. Jo Davidson introduced me to Arthur T. 
Aldis, who asked for our show for Chicago. One 
night in my hotel the magnitude and importance 
of the whole thing came over me. I suddenly real- 
ized that to attempt to handle it alone, without 
Davies, would be unfair to the project. I cabled him 
begging him to join me. He responded and in less 
than a week he arrived. The first night in the hotel 
we spent without sleep, going over the newly 
opened vista of what we could do for the folks at 
home. It was very exciting. Then came several 
weeks of the most intensive canvassing. We prac- 
tically lived in taxicabs. Pach introduced us to the 
brothers Duchamp Villon. Here we saw for the first 
time the famous "Nude Descending a Staircase" 
which became the succes de scandale of our exhibi- 
tion in all three cities, New York, Chicago and 
Boston. Constantin Brancusi also was induced to 
agree to an American debut. Pach was left in Paris 
to make the final assemblage, and attend to trans- 
portation and insurance, a very tough job, which he 
executed as only he could. 

Then with Davies to London to see Roger Fry's 
second Grafton Gallery show. I could see in the 
glint of Davies' eye that we had nothing to fear by 
comparison. Here it might be well to say that 
Davies' thorough understanding of all the new 


manifestations was due to one thing only— his com- 
plete knowledge of the art of the past. Dikran 
Kelekian speaks of him as one of the great anti- 
quarians of his time. Many of the lenders to the 
Grafton Gallery exhibition transferred their items 
to our show. We sailed, worn out from work, but 
fearless and determined as to the outcome in 

Returning to the United States late in November 
1912, with Pach busy in Paris attending to his part 
of the job, we set about with our preparations. 
At home, in the meantime, interest had been 
slightly stirred by various messages I had sent for 
release to the press even before the arrival of 
Davies in Paris. Probably the initial announcement 
appeared on the editorial page of the New York 
Sun and made the home folks take notice. At a 
meeting of the association the general program, for 
the first time, was laid before the members. No such 
daring proposal had ever been considered by any 
group of artists. During the decade preceding this 
time great pioneering work had been done by 
Robert Henri and his group, which to say the least, 
had made the public realize that the artist has a 
legitimate place in American society. The first 
messages from abroad, submitted by the newly re- 
turned Americans, Max Weber and John Marin, 


and the persistent and most stimulating early 
efforts of Alfred Stieglitz in his little gallery on 
Fifth Avenue, all these things had made the big 
American public restless and desirous of finding 
out more about the socalled new movement. 

It was now our mission to present these ideas in 
a grand, bold and comprehensive way, produced 
with a technique which would be understandable 
to every single American who was at all inquisitive, 
and banish that bug-a-boo to every sincere worker 
in the arts—the "help the poor artist" idea. We were 
prepared to help ourselves and demand our rights 
as legitimate practitioners. The events of the last 
twenty-five years seem to indicate that we were in 
a measure successful. 

The Association's membership of twenty-five 
naturally suggests that there may have been diver- 
gencies of opinion as to just how far we were to 
go. Personal tastes and training had their effect on 
the attitude of the various men, but let it be said 
to their credit, that American sportsmanship won 
in the end. The sincerity of Davies was self-evident. 
Practically every man forgot his personal feelings 
and backed the president to the hilt in the under- 

The labors of organization began to mount; at 
the time we had a tiny office in an old building. 


Weeks later it was conceded that I might require 
a telephone. I drafted the services of an old friend, 
Frederick James Gregg. He had been a first class 
editorial writer on the old New York Evening Sun. 
Contributing also, in the department of publicity, 
was Guy Pene du Bois. Articles were prepared for 
the press and everything was done to somewhat 
prepare the public for the impending excitement. 
Work was still mounting. We moved to larger 
quarters. I was given an assistant. Arrangements 
were made with contractors to fit out the armory 
with walls, coverings, booths, tables and seats for 
the weary. We had nothing but an empty drill floor 
to start with. Owing to the varied distribution of 
daylight through the skylights of the armory, we 
had considerable difficulty in planning the sections 
or rooms. After lengthy discussion it was George 
Bellows who hit upon a solution. Mrs. Whitney 
donated a thousand dollars for greenery and other 
decorations. We were flooded by American artists, 
good and bad, seeking representation and had 
finally to resort to a special committee, headed by 
William Glackens, to consider such requests. Print- 
ing had to be done. The catalogue, in spite of the 
heartbreaking work of such an efficient man as 
Allen Tucker, was impossible. Exhibits were ad- 
mitted even after the opening of the show, all due 


to the zeal of our president whose one desire was 
to make a fine exhibition and spare no one. It was 
a bedlam— but we liked it. The catalogue problem 
was finally overcome with the aid of a large group 
of art students wearing badges with the word 
"information". These young men had to memorize 
the location of all the works shown and act as 
guides to the visitors. 

Here you must remember that the entire affair 
was being conducted on a shoestring, one might say, 
hand-to-mouth. There was not the security of un- 
derwriters such as is usually the case in all "well 
conducted" exhibitions. The treasury was prac- 
tically always depleted. Elmer MacRae, the treas- 
urer, did well by a nerve-wracking and disagreeable 
job. When money was needed it was produced from 
the sleeve of Arthur B. Davies. It was Davies' 
party. He financed the show— he and his friends, 
with perhaps slight exception. No member at any 
stage of the activities was asked to contribute a 
penny of membership dues. 

A special meeting was held January 22, 1913 with 
all resident members present, when the following 
resolution was passed unanimously: 

'That the policy expressed by Mr. Davies in 
the selection of the paintings and sculpture 
be approved by the members. That improved 


plan of arrangements as submitted on this 
date, as well as Mr. Davies 1 policy regarding 
the distribution of works be approved." 

From now on there was plain sailing. Pach 
arrived in New York. Then came a time of agony 
owing to storms at sea. The ship bearing the paint- 
ings and sculptures from abroad was two weeks 
overdue. But she came in. An entire uptown build- 
ing was leased to temporarily house the works. 
Contractors got busy. The exhibition was installed. 
Everybody helped. Morgan Taylor of Putnam's 
gave his evenings gratis. He secured for us the 
sales staff for catalogues, pamphlets and photo- 
graphs, also the girls to sell the tickets of admis- 
sion, which incidentally were twenty-five cents. 
On busy days we had two box offices in operation. 
The pine tree flag of the American Revolution was 
adopted as our emblem; the tree was reproduced 
on campaign buttons to signify the "New Spirit". 
Thousands of these buttons were given away. 
Posters were printed and distributed all over town. 
The President of the United States, the Governor 
of the State and the Mayor of New York, all sent 
their regrets. So the show finally opened without 
their aid on the night of February 17, 1913. All 
society was there, all the art public, and success 
seemed assured. 


Now came a surprise. The press was friendly and 
willing. Sides were taken for or against, which was 
good, but in spite of this the public did not arrive. 
For two weeks there was a dribbling attendance. 
Expenses went on, a big staff of guards, salesgirls, 
etc., had to be supported. The deficit grew steadily, 
when suddenly on the second Saturday the storm 
broke. From then on the attendance mounted and 
controversy raged. Old friends argued and sepa- 
rated, never to speak again. Indignation meetings 
were going on in all the clubs. Academic painters 
came every day and left regularly, spitting fire and 
brimstone— but they came— everybody came. Albert 
Pinkham Ryder, on the arm of Davies, arrived to 
look at some of his own pictures he had not seen in 
years, or maybe he too could not resist the Armory 
Show. Henry McBride was in his glory and val- 
iantly held high the torch of free speech in the 
plastic arts, as he is doing today. A daily visitor 
was Miss Lillie Bliss who here first found her in- 
troduction to modern art. Frank Crowninshield 
reveled in discoveries. He was a true champion and 
is so today. Enrico Caruso came, he did not sing, 
but had his fun making caricatures. Mrs. Meredith 
Hare, one of the show's ardent supporters was hav- 
ing the time of her life. Mrs. Astor, now Lady 
Ribblesdale, came every day after breakfast. Stu- 


dents, teachers, brain specialists— the exquisite, the 
vulgar, from all walks of life they came. "Over- 
night" experts expounded on the theories of the 
"abstract versus the concrete". Cezanne was ex- 
plained nine different ways or more. The then 
cryptic words, "significant form", were in the air. 
Brancusi both baffled and delighted. Matisse 
shocked, made enemies on one day, developed 
ardent fans the next. People came in limousines, 
some in wheel-chairs, to be refreshed by the excite- 
ment. Even a blind man was discovered, who lim- 
ited to the sculptures, nevertheless "saw" by the 
touch of his fingers. Actors, musicians, butlers and 
shopgirls, all joined in the pandemonium. 

We gave away thousands of free admission 
tickets to schools and societies. The place was 
crowded; the exact attendance will never be 
known. On March the fourth, the day of Wilson's 
inauguration I had the pleasure of escorting the 
former president, Theodore Roosevelt, through the 
rooms of the exhibition. Perhaps the Ex-president 
felt that the Armory Show would be the right sort 
of counter-irritant to what was just then going 
on in Washington. If he did, he never showed it, 
for he was most gracious, though noncommittal. 
Later in the "Outlook" he discussed the show more 


One day I lunched with John Quinn at the old 
Hoffman House. He had begun to enjoy the fight, 
but he would not buy. I urged and urged, finally I 
won him over. His purchase of between five and six 
thousand dollars worth of pictures reached the ears 
of Arthur Jerome Eddy, famous in Chicago I was 
told, for having been the first Chicagoan to ride a 
bicycle and later the first man there to own an 
automobile. Eddy bought some of the most radical 
works in our show. Others followed suit. Rivalry 
between the collectors grew. Bryson Burroughs 
made history— through his efforts the Metropolitan 
bought a Cezanne, the first ever to be owned by an 
American Museum. 

Mr. Aldis came from Chicago wih a committee 
to secure the show for The Art Institute. It was 
arranged to have it there from March 24th to 
April 16th. Here in New York everybody was 
happy and every member worked with a will until 
the end. On the show's last night at the Armory, 
we paraded with regimental fife and drum, led 
by the giant, Putnam Brinley, wearing a bear- 
skin hat and twirling a drum major's baton. 
Through each room of the exhibition we marched 
and saluted our confreres past and present. The 
work of dismantling began at once and lasted until 
morning. I spent the night with the workmen. At 


ten o'clock on St. Patrick's Day the regimental 
band marched on to the empty floor and saluted our 
closing with the tune of "Garry Owen". 

The show was now boxed for Chicago. It in- 
cluded most of the foreign works, but of the Amer- 
icans, at request of the Chicago authorities, only 
works by members of the association. Gregg had 
already departed for Chicago to meet the press and 
was frantically telegraphing me to come and help 
handle the horde of newspaper boys who were 
evidently out for bear. The morning of my arrival 
I met a most formidable array of scribes. The 
echoes of the New York press had done their work, 
evidently Chicago was not to be fooled. The news- 
papers were on the whole most skeptical, but it was 
great copy and they loved it. One young reporter 
called my attention to what seemed like a sixth toe 
on a nude by Matisse— and immediately rushed off 
to write his story. I found the officials of the Insti- 
tute most easy to work with and must state that 
The Art Institute of Chicago is, to my mind, with- 
out a doubt one of the most efficiently conducted 
establishments of the kind in the country. Aided 
by a thoroughly trained staff we were able to hang 
the entire show in one day! 

Another gala opening. The papers hammered the 
show, but it was a grand success and thousands paid 


to get in. One outstanding champion was Julian S. 
Mason, later editor of the New York Evening Post. 
Harriet Monroe was also an ally. The feeling was 
so strong, especially against Matisse and Brancusi, 
that later upon my return to New York I received a 
wire from our treasurer Elmer MacRae who was 
then in Chicago, stating that he had difficulty in 
preventing the art students from burning them in 
effigy. The teachers at The Art Institute were 
almost a solid unit against our exhibition and in- 
sisted upon escorting their classes through the 
various halls and in "explaining" and denouncing 
every part of the show. I had to request that this 
be stopped, as it had a very bad effect on non- 
student visitors who had the right to be left alone 
to judge for themselves. Pach lectured at Fullerton 
Hall to a full house. Jo Davidson and Bob Chanler 
arrived to add to the excitement. Everything was 
just clean fun. The Chicago management, although 
perhaps worried at times, came through in good 
order and was actually delighted. Our relations 
with the Institute authorities were always perfect. 
I received letters later in which they stated their 
complete satisfaction with the show, as well as with 
their association with us. 

In the meantime negotiations were going on with 
the Copley Society in Boston— and to Boston we 


went. Boston did not take to it. Maybe the sight of 
a large plaster relief by Matisse hanging between 
two drawings by Ingres was just a bit too much. 
Local psychoanalysts were especially vehement in 
their disapproval. Our relations with the manage- 
ment were most cordial; they did everything pos- 
sible to promote success. However results on the 
whole could not be compared with those of New 
York and Chicago. The International Exhibition of 
Modern Art of 1913 was over. 

It took an entire year to close up the affairs of the 
exhibition, with many disagreeable chores of a 
minor sort. There were no debts left to embarrass 
any of us. If anybody was embarrassed, it could 
only have been Arthur B. Davies and he certainly 
did not show it. After squaring everything, the 
bulk of the money left was turned over to him and 
by him possibly to friends who had supplied it to 
him in the beginning. All had worked hard, not one 
member of the Association accepted a penny as 
remuneration for his services. Nothing remained 
now, but to see what effect our great adventure 
would have on these United States. 


To the collectors of America and abroad, too 
numerous to mention here, who so willingly loaned 
their works of art, and to the following group of 
artists who constituted the Association and whose 
sportsmanship and unity of purpose made the 
thing possible, all credit is due: 

Karl Anderson, George Bellows, D. Putnam 
Brinley, J. Mowbray Clarke, vice-president; Leon 
Dabo, Jo Davidson, Arthur B. Davies, president; 
Guy Pene Du Bois, Sherry E. Fry, William J. 
Glackens, Robert Henri, E. A. Kramer, Walt Kuhn, 
secretary; Ernest Lawson, Jonas Lie, George B. 
Luks, Elmer L. MacRae, treasurer; Jerome Myers, 
Frank A. Nankivell, Bruce Porter, Maurice Pren- 
dergast, John Sloan, Henry Fitch Taylor, Allen 
Tucker, Mahonri Young. 



In the course of years, since that wild time in 
1913, my feelings have turned first hot, then cold, 
as to what the whole thing has really meant to us 
Americans. How did we benefit, if at all? 

The late President Coolidge once said, ''Amer- 
ica's business is business." Therein lies the answer. 
We naive artists, we wanted to see what was going 
on in the world of art, we wanted to open up the 
mind of the public to the need of art. Did we do it? 
We did more than that. The Armory Show affected 
the entire culture of America. Business caught on 
immediately, even if the artists did not at once do 
so. The outer appearance of industry absorbed the 
lesson like a sponge. Drabness, awkwardness began 
to disappear from American life, and color and 
grace stepped in. Industry certainly took notice. 
The decorative elements of Matisse and the cubists 
were immediately taken on as models for the crea- 
tion of a brighter, more lively America. The decor- 
ative side of Brancusi went into everything from 
milliners' dummies to streamliner trains. The exhi- 
bition affected every phase of American life— the 
apparel of men and women, the stage, automobiles, 
airplanes, furniture, interior decorations, beauty 
parlors, advertising and printing in its various de- 
partments, plumbing, hardware— everything from 
the modernistic designs of gas pumps and added 


color of beach umbrellas and bathing suits, down to 
the merchandise of the dime store. 

In spite of the number of admittedly first class 
pieces of "fine art" in the Armory Show, the thing 
that "took" was the element of decoration. Amer- 
ican business, perhaps unconsciously, absorbed this 
needed quality and reached with it, into every 
home and industry and pastime. 

At a dinner given to the press by the Associa- 
tion's press committee, one of the conservative 
critics said with good humor, "Men it was a bully 
show, but don't do it again." We did not have to do 
it again. It kept right on going and is going better 
than ever today. Many great exhibitions since then 
could not have appeared without it. The Museum 
of Modern Art in New York would never have been 
possible. For years Davies and the writer urged 
Miss Lillie Bliss, probably one of the truly dis- 
interested collectors of her time, and a staunch 
supporter of the Armory Show, to establish just 
that sort of a permanent place for contemporary 
art, but she wasn't ready. After the death of Davies 
I kept up the pleading. Finally she decided and 
called me to steer the ship. I felt it was not my 
place and turned it over to another, who now is 
doing a good job. I was not made for that sort of 
thing. Perhaps I was after all, as old Mr. Montross 
used to call me, just a "war secretary". 


Following is a List of the Exhibitors 

(300 Exhibitors - 1,090 Works Exhibited) 

Abenschein, Albert 
Aitken, Robert 
Alger, John J. 
Anderson, Karl 
Archipenko, Alexandre 
Ashe, Edwin Marion 
Barclay, Florence Howell 
Barnard, George Gray 
Beach, Chester 
Bechtejeff, W. von 
Becker, Maurice 
Beckett, Marion H. 
Bellows, George 
Berlin, H. 
Bernard, Joseph 
Bickford, Nelson N. 
Bjorkman, Olaf 
Blanchet, Alexandre 
Bluemner, Oscar 
Bolz, Hans 
Bonnard, Pierre 
Borglum, Solon 
Boss, Homer 
Bourdelle, E. A. 
Brancusi, Constantin 
Braque, Georges 
Brewer, Bessie Marsh 
Brinley, D. Putnam 
Brown, Bolton 
Brown, Fannie Miller 
Bruce, P. H. 

Burroughs, Mrs. Bryson 
Butler, Theodore Earl 
Camoin, Charles 
Carles, Arthur B. 
Carr, Mrs. Myra Mussleman 
Casarini, A. 
Cassatt, Mary 
Cesare, O. F. 
Cezanne, Paul 
Chabaud, Auguste 
Chaffee, O. N. 
Chanler, Robert W. 
Charmy, Emilie 
Chavannes Puvis De 
Chew, Amos 
Churchill, Alfred Vance 
Cimiotti, Jr., Gustave 

Coate, H. W. 

Cohen, Nessa 

Coleman, Glenn O. 

Coluzzi, Howard 

Conder, Charles 

Corot, J. B. C. 

Cory, Kate 

Courbet, Gustave 

Crisp, Arthur 

Cross, Henri Edmond 

Crowley, Herbert 

Currie, Frank 

Cutler, Carl Gordon 

Dabo, Leon 

Dasburg, Andrew 

Daumier, Honore 

Davey, Randall 

Davidson, Jo 

Davies, Arthur B. 

Davis, Charles H. 

Davis, Stuart 

Degas, Edgar 

Delacroix, Eugene 

Delaunay, Robert 

Denis, Maurice 

Derain, Andre 

Dimock, Edith 

Dirks, Rudolph 

Dolinsky, Nathaniel 

Donoho, Ruger 

Doucet, Henri 

Dreier, Katherine 

Dresser, Aileen 

Dresser, Lawrence 

Dreyfous, Florence 

Du Bois, Guy Pene 

Duchamp, Marcel 

Duchamp-Villon, Raymond 

Duffy, Richard H. 

Dufrenoy, Georges 

Dufy, Raoul 

Dunoyer de Segonzac, A. 

Eberle, Abastinia 

Eddy, H. B. 

Eells, Jean 

Engle, Amos W. 

Epstein, Jacob 

Este, Florence 

List of the Exhibitors (continued) 

Everett, Lily 
Flandrin, Jules 
Foote, Mary 
Fraser, James Earle 
Frazier, Kenneth 
Fresnaye, Roger de la 
Freund, Arthur 
Friesz, Othon 
Fuhr, Ernest 
Gauguin, Paul 
Gaylor, Wood 
Gibb, Phelan 
Gimmi, Wilhelm 
Girieud, Pierre 
Glackens, William 
Gleizes, Albert 
Glintenkamp, H. 
Goldthwaite, Anne 
Goya, Francisco 
Guerin, Charles 
Gussow, Bernard 
Gutmann, Bernhard 
Hale, Philip L. 
Halpert, Samuel 
Harley, Chas. R. 
Hartley, Marsden 
Hassam, Childe 
Haworth, Edith 
Helbig, Walter 
Henri, Robert 
Hess, Julius 
Higgins, Eugene 
Hoard, Margaret 
Hodler, Ferdinand 
Hone, Nathaniel 
Hopkinson, Charles 
Hopper, Edward 
Howard, Cecil 
Humphreys, Albert 
Hunt, Mrs. Thomas 
Huntington, Margaret 
Innes, J. D. 
Jansen, F. M. 
John, Augustus 
John, Gwen 
Johnson, Grace M. 
Junghanns, Julius P. 
Kandinsky, Wassily 
Karfiol, Bernard 
Keller, Henry G. 

King, Edith L. 
Kirchner, T. L. 
Kirstein, Alfred 
Kleiminger, Adolph 
Kleinert, Herman 
Kramer, Edward Adam 
Kroll, Leon 
Kuhn, Walt 
Lachaise, Gaston 
Laprade, Pierre 
Laurencin, Marie 
Lawson, Ernest 
Lee, Arthur 
Lees, Derwent 
Leger, Fernand 
Lehmbruck, Wilhelm 
Levy, Rudolph 
Lie, Jonas 
Londoner, Amy 
Luks, George 
Lundberg, A. F. 
McComas, Francis 
McEnery, Kathleen 
McLane, Howard 
McLean, Hower 
Macknight, Dodge 
MacRae, Elmer L. 
Mager, Gus 
Maillol, Aristide 
Manet, Edouard 
Manolo, Manuel 
Manquin, Henri 
Marin, John 
Maris, Matthew 
Marquet, Albert 
Marval, Jacqueline 
Mase, C. C. 
Matisse, Henri 
Maurer, Alfred 
Mayrshofer, Max 
Meltzer, Charlotte 
Miestchaninoff, Oscar 
Miller, Kenneth Hayes 
Milne, David B. 
Monet, Claude 
Monticelli, A. 
Mowbrav-Clarke, J. 
Munch, Edward 
Muhrmann. Henry 
Murphy, Herman Dudley 

List of the Exhibitors (continued) 

Myers, Ethel 
Myers, Jerome 
Nadelman, Eli 
Nankivell, Frank A. 
Niles, Helen J. 
Oppenheimer, Olga 
Organ, Marjorie 
Pach, Walter 
Paddock, Josephine 
Pascin, Jules 
Pelton, Agnes 
Pepper, Charles H. 
Perrine, Van Dearing 
Phillips, H. S. 
Picabia, Francis 
Picasso, Pablo 

Pissarro, Camille 
Pleuthner, Walter 
Pope, Louise 
Prendergast, Maurice 
Preston, James 
Preston, May Wilson 
Pryde, James 
Putnam, Arthur 
Rasmussen, Bertrand 
Redon, Odilon 
Renoir, Pierre Auguste 
Reuterdahl, H. 
Rhoades, Catherine N. 
Rimmer, Dr. William 
Robinson, Boardman 
Robinson, Theodore 

Rogers, Mary C. 
Roine, E. 
Rohland, Paul 
Rook, Edward T. 
Rouault, Georges 
Rousseau, Henri 
Roussel, K. X. 
Rumsey, Charles C. 
Russel, Morgan 
Russell, George W. 
Ryder, Albert P. 
Salvatore, Victor W. 
Schamberg, Morton L. 
Sheeler, Charles 
Schumacher, Wm. E. 
Serret, Charles 
Seurat, Georges 

Seyler, Julius 
Shannon, Charles H. 
Shaw, Sidney Dale 
Sickert, Walter 
Signac, Paul 
Sisley, Alfred 
Slevogt, Max 
Sloan, John 

Sousa-Cardozo, Amadeo 
Sprinchorn, Carl 
Steer, Wilson 
Stella, Joseph 
Stevens, Frances S. 
Stinemetz, Morgan 
Tarkhoff, Nicolas 
Taylor, Henry Fitch 
Taylor, William L. 
Tobeen, Felix E. 
Toulouse-Lautrec, Henri de 
Toussaint, Gaston 
Tucker, Allen 
Twachtman, Alden 
Twachtman, John H. 
Vallotton, Felix 
Van Gogh, Vincent 
Villon, Jacques 
Vlaminck, Maurice de 
Vonnoh, Bessie Potter 
Vuillard, Edouard 
Waishawasky, Alexander 
Walkowitz, A. 
Walts, F. M. 
Ward, Hilda 
Weber, F. William 
Webster, E. Ambroise 
Weinzheimer, Felix E. 
Weir, J. Alden 
Weisgerber, Albert 
Wentscher, Julius 
Whistler, J. McN. 
White, Chas. H. 
Wilson, Claggett 
Wolf, Leon 
Wortman, Denys 
Yandell, Enid 
Yeats, Jack B. 
Young, Art 
Young, Mahonri 
Zak, Eugene 
Zorach, William 
Zorach, Marguerite